Come A Little Closer
by Leather and Stripes
Summary: What started as a random hook up turned into something else entirely. And no amount of Roxas denying it is going to change that fact. Akuroku (with others on the side). AU. Mature. Written entirely by Stripes.
1. The Spark

AN: Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?! A new story?!

YES. Because Stripes gets these obnoxious little ideas in her head and needs to write them out. Sometimes they're awful, and then sometimes they're this.

So this is Stripes, writing solo (again). Leather refuses to have anything to do with writing this because she just wants to read it. I'm serious. She loves it and just wants to see it play out without having to do any work. Which is lame and lazy of her, but hey.

Alright, so here we are, with a Kingdom Hearts fic. And it's Akuroku to boot! And I've written like 5k words for this in the past 24 hours, so let's post this first chapter and see how you guys like it (I hope you do!). I'll shut up now~

Cheers!

Stripes

* * *

**Come A Little Closer**

**.:Track I:.**

**"The Spark"**

**xxx**

In his defense, it'd been dark. And he'd been drunk.

Really drunk.

The party hadn't been his idea, but apparently a few of his friends felt that he was too much of a shut-in because he was actually trying to graduate on time. And somehow they'd managed to get him in a car and carted across campus, even though he's pretty sure he'd been kicking and screaming the whole way. Not literally, of course.

The house was crappy, but not unlivable; cramped, but only because the equivalent of an entire lecture hall had been shoved into the little two-story tudor home at the edge of campus. He'd barely known anyone there, and once they were there Hayner and the others had promptly ditched him in favor of girlfriends and boyfriends, so lucky him was left alone in the crowd, making wonderful decisions about the number of jell-o shots necessary to make the party bearable.

Before he knew it, some random guy from some class he didn't remember ever taking roped Roxas into beer pong, and really, that was the beginning of the end. He wasn't bad, but his partner was already sloshed which just made life much more difficult for him as the game progressed, which, to his utter humiliation, ended with him stumbling back into some guy.

Well, okay, not _some _guy. _The_ guy.

He'd pushed away from the other, wiping beer away from his chin and the front of his shirt from the spilt cup before there was a pair of too green eyes in front of his, staring at him with a lucidity that shouldn't have been possible with the practically visible stench of alcohol radiating off him. It gave him pause, if only for a moment, before that stupid smirk the guy had grew wider. Roxas had rolled his eyes at him, frown creasing the space between his eyebrows. "Thanks for the assist, now back off."

"Chill out, Blondie," thin fingers plucked the red solo cup from Roxas' hand, casually tossing it over his shoulder. "Hey, aren't you a little young to be drinkin'?"

Roxas' eyes narrowed, actually looking at the amazingly green-eyed moron in front of him.

Jesus fucking Christ, his hair was red. And not red like 'oh hey, I thought I'd try to be a ginger for a spell', but ass-rape-red. He pulled a face at the imagery he'd provided himself with. "Aren't you a little short to be a Storm Trooper?" he shot back, jabbing a finger into the much taller guy's chest.

Shit, he was really grinning now. The redhead's hand closed around his wrist, tugging Roxas closer with minimal effort and practically breathing tequila fumes against his cheek, "You quoting Star Wars at me, Blondie?"

Roxas nearly gagged. Everyone has a tequila story. His just happened to involve an impromptu trip to Mexico, a bathtub, and a questionable burrito, but that's an entirely different story.

Instead, he straightened his posture and put on his best half-drunken smirk. "And what if I am?"

The other just stared for a moment, and Roxas wasn't sure if he was trying to figure something out or if he'd just zoned out for a moment because of the alcohol he'd consumed. "C'mon, there's more fun to be had."

Roxas caught the smile spreading over the guy's face before he was pulled out of the room, bursting every space bubble he came into contact with as he was literally dragged down a hallway or five, through what may have been a kitchen or a brothel, and into a room full of sweaty college students and alcohol. The redhead sat him down, hands lingering a fraction of a second too long against the nape of Roxas' neck, and someone handed him a drink. Which he drank, because he was making all sorts of great decisions tonight. He watched green eyes watching him across the sloppy circle of party goers and looked away, feeling himself flush against his better judgment. Because, really, what was with this guy and his psychotic hair and piercing eyes and tequila breath and-

"You're up, Blondie."

-yeah, his voice was sort of amazing too, in that stupid husky way…wait…

"Huh?" he intelligently slurred, eyes snapping back to the redhead and following his gaze to the bottle of God-knew-what in the middle of the circle.

Shit.

He'd done this kind of thing before, albeit a lot more sober and with a group of people he had some recollection of meeting at one point or another. It was nothing. Spin, kiss, move on. Roxas leaned forward, taking the bottle between his fingers just at the base of the neck and spinning. And waiting as the glass slowed to a stop, pointing at his lucky match for the next ten seconds.

The girl was cute enough. She shuffled forward on her knees, probably ripping holes in her tights as she did, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Endearing. Cute. The kiss was short and sweet and was met with whistles and hollers from the rest of the group. But so was every kiss.

It continued on like that, the group getting louder with each poured drink. Roxas had racked up a few kisses; a nice girl, a cute hipster boy, a party girl. When the bottle stopped in front of him this time he found the redhead staring at him, eyes far greener than they should have been, and the once dormant smirk awakened. He looked down at the bottle, and back to the other, who was now standing as a few loud whistles turned into clapping.

"Get it, Axel!" some blond guy in a corner was yelling over the other catcalls. Huh. Axel. Weird ass name for a weird ass guy.

Then Roxas felt himself pale. Or blush. He wasn't entirely sure which, but Axel was standing above him, grin boarding on maniacal, and hand extended out toward him. And Roxas was sort of screaming at himself as he saw his own hand take Axel's, pushing up off the floor. It was just a kiss. A stupid kiss because of a stupid game.

But Axel didn't kiss him. Instead, he pulled him out of the room. Roxas could barely hear the obnoxious cheer that broke out because the heartbeat in his ears was drowning everything out. And Axel was smiling over his shoulder at him, pulling him toward the end of a hallway. And what was probably a closet. Great.

Fuck.

With the door shut behind them, he could barely see anything. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for them to adjust and trying to take a moment to rationalize that he might get molested by Pipi Longstocking. So much for good decisions.

He sighed, opening his eyes, ready to lay down the law if he had to-

Axel's lips were soft. The kiss was gentle, chaste even. And it was over almost as soon as it began.

"Sorry 'bout forcibly draggin' you in here. Thought it'd make for a good show."

Roxas, once again, found himself just staring at this ridiculous man in front of him. Not even a man, a boy. A guy. Just some guy with red spiky hair and the most upsettingly beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen, who reeked of tequila and smiled too openly.

He reached out, tucking a strand of unruly blond hair behind Roxas' ear, "You can go back out now. I was hopin' for a kiss. Thanks."

It was dark. And he was drunk.

He felt himself move forward, a hand brushing over Axel's shoulder and pulling him down a few inches so their lips could meet. The lips against his parted slightly, and he could almost taste the alcohol. Roxas felt Axel's hands fall to his hips and tense for a moment before smoothing over the material, almost hesitant, but Roxas pressed forward and Axel seemed to have forgotten to be timid. He heard himself moan in the back of his throat as a hand slid over his lower back, the other finding its way to the nape of his neck. Axel's tongue traced over his bottom lip before Roxas nipped it playfully. And apparently Axel liked that.

Roxas stumbled back against the wall, pulling Axel with him, lips working feverishly against the other pair, everything blurring to teeth and tongues and wandering hands. He was feeling dizzy, and he knew it wasn't because of the alcohol. Axel tasted like…cinnamon. Cinnamon, tequila, and an underlying tang of cigarettes, and as much as Roxas loathed it, he wanted more. And he didn't even know why. He didn't know this man. At all. And here he was, gripping him like a vice and kissing him like he needed it to survive. At this point, he was pretty sure he did.

Axel's mouth was at his neck, lips ghosting over Roxas' ear, making unintelligible sounds when the blond rocked their hips together. "Y'don't play fair, Blondie," Axel purred against the hollow of Roxas' throat. His fingers slipped lower, underneath the elastic of the blond's boxers, pressing their bodies flush.

My, how this had escalated quickly.

Roxas was vaguely aware that he was breathing erratically, Axel catching every embarrassing sound the blond made in his mouth. He was also vaguely aware that someone was pounding on the door, rudely interrupting his dry humping session with his-

Okay, maybe he wasn't as drunk as he should have been.

Or maybe he was. Because Axel had ripped the door open, yelling something at that loud blond guy from earlier, who really wasn't getting the hint and was just standing there whining about some shit that Roxas couldn't care less about because _really._ But Axel turned back to Roxas and kissed him again, long and hard before leaving the closet and stumbling down the hallway with his friend in tow.

He stared at the mass of red hair as it disappeared from his view, the warmth that had been entirely his a minute before gone. What the fuck. Okay, so he didn't know the guy and they'd kissed. Yeah, okay, it was a party, they were playing spin the bottle, they were drinking, whatever. Fine. But…shit, he'd _kissed_ him, hadn't he? Like it wasn't a random hook up. And the longer Roxas thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't. Because there was something about him, and he had no fucking idea what it was, but there was something that he knew he _needed. _And that thought was really irritating.

And that's how he ended up sitting in the back of this shitty lounge. Alone. On a Wednesday night, eyes pretending to scan homework that he finished hours ago. Because he's definitely not being a total stalker and definitely hasn't been for the past eleven days.

Because it's 11:43pm, and in two minutes he won't have to pretend like he's working on anything and can just drink and watch the band. He watches them take the stage just as the waitress brings him another drink, and tries not to be irritated through their sound check. Because in 45 seconds it'll all be worth it.

Because Axel's singing voice is pretty much the most attractive thing he's ever heard.

Not that he would ever admit that.

**xxx**


	2. Crushed

AN: Another chapter?! SO SOON?! Honestly, I've been doing pretty much nothing but writing this as we prepare to move (again...ugh, our upstairs neighbors are AWFUL) and Leather is getting back into her Matt-groove (we should have a new Punch Drunk love chapter up soonish, I hope...we're sorry for that).

I seriously hope you guys like this because I've become sort of consumed with this and UFF I love Kingdom Hearts (and AkuRoku, and Soriku, and Zemyx, and UFFF). Ahem. Yes. So.

Onward.

As always, reviews are amazing and lovely and thank you in advance if you do. If you ever have questions or write something particularly interesting, we (read: I) try to reply. So if you get a random PM from me, don't worry. :D

OKAY SHUTTING UP. PLEASE ENJOY. I LOVE YOU ALL. HAVE SOME HILARITY BECAUSE ROXAS IS MADE OF ANGST AND SNARK.

Cheers,

Stripes

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**.:Track II:.**

**"Crushed"**

**xxx**

There are four guys in the band, hideously known as 'Flameo and the Hotmen'. Yeah, he thought it was a joke too. It's not. He thinks he should think 'people' instead of 'guys' because of the girl on keyboard, but she seems like more of a man than the blond on guitar, so he sticks with 'guys'. They're really a strange assortment of people, if he's completely honest with himself, and Axel is probably the most sane. Which is saying something.

The blond guitarist is named Demyx, or at least that's what the band's facebook page says because, again, not a stalker. Just researching. And, according to research and observation, Demyx and Axel have been best friends since pretty much ever, but that doesn't mean that they don't act like they hate each other like a bitter old couple. Which they aren't. He checked. Roxas gets the feeling that Demyx is very much trying to go for some sort of punk rock look, but got distracted by a beach bum and decided to just fuse the two. And, shockingly, it sort of works for him. Even the faux-hawk. Demyx just also happens to be that loud blond moron from the party that broke up his little adventure in the closet. Not that Roxas is resentful or anything.

Their drummer is a surly guy with blue hair and a wicked scowl, and Roxas has never heard him speak in the past week and a half he's been visiting the lounge, but he imagines it would be terrifying, mainly because he's seen how berserk the guy goes when drumming. He goes by Saïx, and without a doubt hates everything. Well, except maybe his bandmates. On occasion.

The blond girl on keyboard is, in a word, a bitch. And really, he means that in the nicest possible way because she is loud and catty and has bitch slapped nearly everyone in the band six times. But she's pretty, sings well, and the other guys probably deserve it. Okay, so maybe she's not a bitch. He makes a mental note that Larxene is not a bitch.

And then there's Axel, being all stupid and beautiful with his fitted dark jeans and gray v-neck shirt that covers four of the eight tattoos he's seen inked onto the redhead's arms at various points over the past eleven days. With his stupid hair that looks like he dunks his head in hair gel and then jumps on a motorcycle and races down the street so that it just stays that way. Roxas really wouldn't put it past him. The guy has two little tattoos on his face, so seriously, he might do anything.

_Oblivion_ is a quarter mile off campus and Roxas thinks whoever named the lounge was trying to go for something mysterious and sexy when in reality it just sounds emo. And really, if they were trying to go for sexy, they should have steered clear of Flameo and the Hotmen because they play the exact opposite of lounge music. They are loud and nothing near ambient and the sexiest you could get to any of their songs would be if you were having a seizure in the middle of the dance floor and happened to rub against a few people on your way to the floor. But really, they're not bad.

And Roxas maintains it has nothing to do with Axel as their singer.

He feels pathetic about his not-stalking the redhead. Not because he's stalking, which he's pretty sure everyone and their grandmother would agree that yes he is, but because of how good at not-stalking he's become. He takes the same table in the back corner every night, spreads his papers and notebooks out, orders a rum and coke, followed by an amaretto sour, and waits. Roxas probably feels the most pathetic because Axel hasn't noticed him yet. Which is extremely irritating considering he's been not-stalking him every night the band has played since he found their schedule on facebook.

The first time he showed up it was really just to see if he had been completely hallucinating about the redheaded stranger at the party. He hadn't been, and seeing Axel sober almost made everything worse because he was still a total moron, too sly for his own good, and ridiculously gorgeous. He kept coming back every night because maybe he would see him, recognize him, finish what he'd started, anything. Roxas didn't know why, and that continued to piss him off each night that he came back.

Which is why he's still sitting at his table, books neatly organized back in his laptop bag, easily five drinks under the table, and silently begging for emerald eyes to find his because this is their last song of the night.

And that's exactly when they do.

Hayner is, what Roxas likes to call, a terrific cockblock. He means well, and ever since Roxas came out at the end of high school has been nothing but supportive and held the spot of wingman. Unfortunately, that's a major part of the problem. Not to mention his timing is atrocious.

So Roxas is in the middle of his chick flick moment, Axel is on the last line of their only ballad, eyes fixed on his across the room. Time stands still, all that amazing shit. Enter Hayner.

"You queer little _slut_!" the other slams his hands on the table, grin perched on his face as he blocks Roxas' view of Axel entirely. Not that he would admit he was staring.

Okay, maybe he would. That's not the point.

Hayner pulls out a chair, eyes too wide and excited for any decent human being after 1am. "How dare you not tell me about your closet love affair. For shame, Rox. And here I was, thinking we were bosom buddies and shared everything."

Well, this is certainly unexpected. "I'm sorry, did you just say closet love affair?"

"Olette heard from Namine who heard from Riku that you were fucking around in a closet at the party last week." Hayner shakes his head, eyes still gleaming. "The audacity! Was it anyone I know?"

Shit. "Does Sora know?"

Wrong answer. The other blond's face lights up like a Roman Candle. "So you _were_ gettin' freaky!"

"No not…not _freaky_, Hayner," Roxas sits back in his chair, pressing a hand over his eyes with a deep sigh. "It was nothing. Like, a literal no-thing. We were drinking and…" God, this is incredibly pathetic when he has to say it out loud. "Seriously, does Sora know?"

"Ohhhh he knows. Riku told him _everything_ from what I understand," Hayner leans forward, taking the partially drained glass in front of Roxas and throws the remainder back. "You know, if we cramp your lifestyle, we can always get out of your hair and let you cut loose. I didn't know you had it in you, Roxas. Frankly, I'm impressed."

Roxas feels the color rise in his cheeks, wanting desperately to punch his best friend hard enough to dislocate his overused jaw. "You guys are the ones that ditched _me_! I wouldn't have even gone if-"

"No excuses. It happened. YOLO."

That's it, Roxas is definitely going to beat the shit out of the other the moment they leave Oblivion.

"So what's his name?"

"Doesn't matter," Roxas can't help his eyes following the redhead across the room as he jumps off the stage, unplugging cords and shoving Demyx back into his amp. "It was a onetime deal."

"Is that what he said?" Hayner has to be blocking Roxas' view on purpose because this is ridiculous. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

Hayner turns then and Roxas is really hoping he doesn't put two and two together, but considering that this is _Hayner_ he's feeling pretty confident that he'll never figure it out. "You checking out the band? Window shopping again, and so soon after your little tryst in the closet?"

"Please go die."

"That's harsh Rox, and completely not your style." He turns again, following Roxas' gaze. "Seriously, what're-"

Okay, maybe Roxas isn't being as not-stalkery as he thinks he is because Hayner is grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Holy shit, you fucked the band."

Roxas throws his head back against the wall, covering his face with his hands and practically screaming into them.

"Well, now, not the _whole _band. You're not into the gangbang scene, are you? No, you're a one-man kinda man."

"_Hayner."_

"Now, to find which one…you don't like blonds, so the guitarist is out. The chick is definitely out seeing as she's blond and you…you know, like dick." To his credit, Hayner does yelp when Roxas kicks him under the table. "How about Red, over there?"

Apparently Roxas' split second of silence is enough to give Hayner an answer.

"Hey, Red!"

And this is the moment Roxas wishes he were dead. "Hayner, don't you fucking _dare_."

"What, I just wanna talk to him, no biggie. I wanna know who my bestie's been messing around with, that's all. Yeah, Red. Talking to you, big guy."

Axel tilts his head to the side, half way through pulling his hair back into a ponytail but crosses the room just the same, a small smile gracing his lips. "You rang?"

Hayner swings himself around in the chair, leaning back and looking up at the redhead with a grin. "You…you are just enormous."

This is not happening because Roxas, to his knowledge, has never evoked the wrath of any deity and that was the only way anything this horrible could be happening right now. He's too drunk, obviously he is too drunk and this is clearly a staged intervention to prove to him that he needs to stop drinking entirely or stupid, embarrassing shit is going to continuously happen to him.

"Well, thank you. Honestly, you're not exactly my type, but I'm flattered. Here for the fans. All five of them," Axel lets out a little laugh and Roxas is really trying to blend into the wall at his back and not let the butterflies in his stomach consume him.

"You're not mine either, trust me. But uh," Hayner shoots a sly grin at Roxas across the table, "what would you say your type is, pray tell? For instance, what do you think of my friend over here? Attractive? Dark-closet-fun-time material?"

God up above, he's never asked for anything in his entire life but please, _please_ kill him now.

The redhead is grinning exactly how he had across the circle in that damn room at that damn party as his eyes fall on Roxas. Slender eyebrows raise, clearly giving him a once over. God, why is he incapable of saying anything when Axel is looking at him like that? Except…

"He's cute. Maybe a little young for my taste, but very cute."

"Thanks, man. You know, I-"

Hayner and Axel are exchanging pleasantries, laughing about something awful Hayner just said, and shaking hands. And now Axel is walking away, and Roxas feels like his stomach has dropped out of his ass. Hayner shoots him a look, eyebrows knit together with concern. "Dude, what's wrong? That-"

"He doesn't remember anything."

"What? What do you mean?" Hayner sits forward, leaning toward Roxas.

"He doesn't remember me or…" he stops himself from looking at Axel laughing with his friends across the room and instead resigns himself to resting his cheek against the table.

"Rox," Hayner drags his chair closer, ducking his head slightly to try to meet Roxas' eyes. "Rox, I thought you said nothing happened."

"Yeah…well…"

"Shit, Rox, did…" his voice drops to a whisper, "did he touch you? Do I need to get the doll?"

Roxas groans against the tabletop. He knows Hayner is just trying to help but God he can be so stupid. Bad timing. "No, nothing like that. I get that he was drunk but…I dunno, I didn't realize he'd pretty much blacked out." He sits up, eyes focused on anything but Axel.

"You sure he doesn't remember?"

"If you were suddenly faced with a person you'd dry humped in a closet, would you acknowledge them?"

Hayner pauses thoughtfully.

"Was it intense?"

"Hayner."

"I'm just asking, sheesh," he holds up his hands in surrender before flopping back into his chair. "But yeah, I would. Want me to beat him up?"

"No."

"Right, you want to do all the beating with regards to him."

Hayner knows Roxas well enough to know when to back down. Either that, or Roxas' glare is much more intimidating than he thought.

"I meant that in the most Fight Club way possible, I swear." Hayner smiles and Roxas cracks a half smile even though everything in his mind is screaming at him to throttle the man across the room until he remembers.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just leave."

"Right behind you."

Roxas slings his bag over his shoulder heads toward the door with Hayner in tow, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at Axel, who he can hear order a round of shots for his bandmates, and decides that he is definitely giving up drinking.

**xxx**

Sora is pissed.

This is significant because Sora, bright, bubbly, loved-by-all Sora, is never pissed. Sora does not possess an angry bone in his body. Hell, he doesn't even _piss_. If anything, a man of Sora's delicate sensibility would tinkle. Not that Roxas would ever say that to his twin, but there it is.

So when Roxas unlocks the front door of their apartment a little before 2am and is promptly thrown against a wall, hands pinning his shoulders and an identical set of blue eyes glaring into his own, he's taken aback.

"And what sort of time do you call this, Roxas?" Sora has his face set in a grimace, and Roxas wishes he could take him more seriously, but it's not threatening. It's adorable.

"Sorry, I was out studying. I was trying to be quiet," he shifts his shoulders uncomfortably against the wall, reaching a hand up and pushing gently against Sora's forearms. Which won't budge.

"Bullcrap, Roxas, I know you were at Oblivion again. Riku saw you go in around nine. You don't need to _lie_ to me," he lets go then, taking a step back with a resigned sigh. "I worry about you, you know."

Riku is going to get a swift kick in the ass. "I know. There's just a band I like that was playing and I thought I could study before they started their set."

Sora fumbles with the drawstring on his pajama bottoms. And Roxas knows his brother too well not to know what's coming next.

"Sora, I'm okay, really…"

"But why didn't you _tell_ me? About the guy at the party?" He's an adult and clearly isn't going to cry, but Roxas sees the hurt in his eyes and it destroys him, even though this is completely stupid.

"It's not anything to tell. I just…I was at a party and-"

"Without me."

Wait. "I'm sorry. Hold on. Sora, are you mad that I didn't go with you?"

He's silent, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Well…not _exactly…_"

"Are you serious? I didn't even _want_ to go! Hayner pretty much threw me in the damn car!"

"You could have texted or something."

Jesus, this is so stupid. Roxas throws his head back, sighing in exasperation at the ceiling. "I'm going to bed."

"Were you safe, at least?"

Roxas is vaguely aware that he yelped his brother's name. Vaguely. "Did you _really_ just ask me that?!"

"Roxas, protection is never anything to scoff at. And I heard you didn't even know the guy! What if he had something? What would you do then?" Sora is following him to the door of his room, and Roxas is trying harder than anything to block out what his brother is saying. "What if he had friggin' herpes or something?!"

"Sora!" Roxas slams his hands on either side of his doorframe, knowing he's probably blushing something fierce because he's never heard his brother say herpes ever and it just seems so fucking _wrong_. "We did not have sex. There was no gangbang or orgy or any of the wild stories that everyone is spreading around. I had a few drinks. I kissed a guy in a closet during a game of spin the bottle. I came home. It's not the crisis you're imagining, I promise!"

"I just get _worried_ because you're my little brother and-"

"You are _one minute_ older than me!"

"And apparently that makes a difference because you get carried away and can totally act out sometimes."

He feels his eye twitch. "Sora."

"Yes, Roxas?"

"Do I have to remind you of the little mud wrestling fiasco from last summer?"

The color instantly drains from Sora's face. "Rox, we said we weren't ever going to talk about that again…"

"Oh, but I have pictures-"

"Stop it!" the brunet claps his hands over his ears, shaking his head wildly.

"Now you're just being immature!"

"At least I wasn't hooking up with some hooligan in a closet!" Sora yells back in a huff, taking a step closer to his brother.

"I don't even want to hear _that_ coming from you! How far exactly did you get your tongue down Riku's throat before you realized it was _Riku_?"

"He apologized for that! We were both out of sorts, and the whole thing was just a giant accident!"

Roxas hits his forehead against his doorframe and wills himself to breathe because he really he shouldn't have brought that up, but _really_. He doesn't need to hear this from his brother. "Sora, it was a stupid, drunken bout of misguided judgment. I'm fine." He shoots his twin a look, trying so hard to make his smile convincing. "Pweeaase?"

The corner of Sora's lips quirks upward as he scratches the back of his head. Nervous. Or relieved. "Sorry…Riku made it sound kinda…bad."

Yup, Riku is getting his ass kicked. "Don't listen to him. I'll tell you all the gruesome details from now on, okay?"

"'Kay," Sora pats his brother on the head before shoving it lightly. "Now go sleep, you look like crap."

"Thanks." And just like that, Roxas is as tired as he knows he should have been hours ago. The sight of his bed is heaven.

"Rox?"

"Hm?"

"Is he cute?"

"Good_night_, Sora!"

**xxx**


End file.
